In The Mind Of A Hufflepuff
by Audny
Summary: Just a quick look into the thoughts of a Hufflepuff.


A/N: I was sitting in my room last night, trying to delude myself into thinking I was getting anything done on my math homework when I began thinking. Have you ever wondered what might go on in the head of one self-conscious Hufflepuff having a bad day? Well, here's my look at it. 

  
  


In The Mind Of A Hufflepuff

By Lafayette

  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with him, well, except for some of the books.

  
  


"You have one hour to finish the shrinking potion," Professor Snape growls, glaring around the potions dungeon. "Begin."

For the first few minutes the room is silent except for the scraping of cauldrons across the tables and the clink of ingredient jars being retrieved from bags. As Snape takes his seat and burrows his greasy head in papers to be graded, whispered conversations begin to break out among the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs currently occupying the dungeon for double potions, the last class of the day.

"One hour and I'm free," I mutter under my breath, not loud enough for anyone to hear me. I glance around the room as I begin chopping salamander liver into precise cubes. Most of the Ravenclaws have already finished this step of the potion. I hate classes with Ravenclaws. They make everything look so simple. I wish I were smart enough to be a Ravenclaw. They're brilliant. But there's no chance of that. The sorting had didn't even have to think about it when it hit my head. "There's only one place for you," it had said before calling out, "Hufflepuff," in that deep booming voice no one would expect from a hat. Stupid hat.

I dump the salamander liver into my bubbling cauldron and get out a jar of powdered moonstone. Three spoonfuls and stir clockwise seventeen times, then counter clockwise twenty-eight times. Add syrup of hellebore. Oh no! I forgot the newts blood. I can't even follow directions right. Grabbing the bottle I quickly pour a bit in and glance up to see if Snape has raised his greasy head out of his papers and seen my mistake. He didn't, but a couple of Ravenclaws did and are now sniggering behind their hands at me.

Sinking low into my chair. I feel my face burning. Why do I always face to blush at the slightest thing?

A glance into my potion tells me it may not be ruined after all. It's still the same color as the Ravenclaw's in front of me. Maybe it's my lucky day. Adding a bit of powdered dragon scale, I stir my potion one last time. It looks alright . . . I think. Well, there's nothing I can do about it now if it isn't right. Filling a bottle I follow a nervous looking Ernie up to Snape's desk. At least mine didn't turn into a moldy puce like his. We set our bottles on the desk and Snape looks up. Maybe it isn't my lucky day.

"What is this, Miss Bryant?" he hisses in a deathly quiet voice. I know I'm turning red again. "Your potion is not supposed to be opaque. And don't let me get started on yours, Mr. MacMillan," he says, turning his death glare on Ernie. "Ten points from Hufflepuff for not even being able to follow a simple set of instructions."

Walking away Ernie offers me a sympathetic smile and I hesitantly return it before turning an even darker shade of red and hurrying back to my desk. I'm never going to have a boyfriend at this rate. I can't even look at, much less talk to, someone of the opposite sex without turning as red as a cherry.

Cleaning up my cauldron I scurry from the room; getting away before anyone has a chance to ask me about the points Ernie and I lost for our house. I head for the library. I love the library. There's always some corner table I can sit at and be left alone. Coming through the library door, however, I cringe. There's a lot of people in there, some of them Slytherins. I hate Slytherins. They're extremely mean to everyone. Well, not to Hufflepuffs quite as much as Gryffindors. The bitter thought that they don't even think of us Hufflepuffs as on a level high enough to think twice about--even if just to insult, flashes through my mind.

Maybe I'll come back later. No, I can't help but sigh morosely. I can't put off that transfiguration essay fro another day. Taking a fortifying breath, I march passed the Slytherins, they don't even look up from their verbal bashing of Potter and his lot, sitting across the library. They probably wouldn't even notice if I sat down right beside them. To the Slytherins we Hufflepuffs don't even exist. Well, not unless there's no one else around to harass. In that case we're easy prey.

Plopping ungracefully into a chair in an unoccupied corner (the only one) of the library, I pull out my books. Transfiguration essay here I come. I glace up and look longingly over at Harry Potter and his friends. Potter's sitting there with Weasley and Granger, their heads all close together, whispering, so absorbed in their won affairs they don't even hear the Ravenclaw first year, amid a shower of texts, fall off the shelf he had been climbing to reach a book.

I wonder what it would be like to be one of them. What if I was Hermione? I'm the smartest witch in my year, probably in the whole of Hogwarts. I've got two best friends whom I tell everything and they tell everything to me. Yeah, right. I can't quite keep the sarcasm out of that last thought.

Me? Best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley? Two boys as my best friends? I'd probably just sit there gaping like a fish out of water, my mouth opening and closing stupidly. I let out a soundless snort. Imagine me telling my innermost thoughts to a couple of guys. I don't even tell my best friends all that much, just the obvious stuff, like what a prat I think Draco Malfoy is when he picks on Hannah. I do wonder, though, what it would be like to tell someone all my problems and concerns? I don't think I could do that. I guess I'll never have a friendship like Potter's.

My transfiguration book is still lying unopened on the table. My parchment blank. Who am I kidding? I'm not going to get anything done. Maybe I'll do it after dinner. Packing my books back into their bag, I sling it over my shoulder and leave the library unnoticed. I like the long walk through the deserted hallways to the Hufflepuff common room. I love to take walks by myself through the empty unused hallways. When I'm alone I don't worry about what other people think of me--if they even notice me. My brain adds the thought of its own accord. It's not that I really care that much what people think--at least that's what I tell myself--but I get nervous around people I don't know really well. It's dead annoying really. I wish I could just turn it off, wake up one morning and be able to talk with anyone I wanted to, and not afraid of what they might think. That's not going to happen though. I'm not that kind of person. I'm just a boring old Hufflepuff no one knows exists, trudging through life behind the crowd--never part of it.

"In perpetuum." The metal suit of armor once belonging to Sir Anders of Bath steps aside, allowing me to clamber ungracefully through the hole behind him. I can hear laughter and voices coming from the common room. I think I'll just go up to my room and work on homework. No one will notice I'm not there anyway.

Inside the common room everyone seems to be talking. I hear Sir Anders' armor creak back into place behind me. Pushing into the room, I start heading towards the girls dormitories. My foot poised above the first step I hear my name being called.

"Angie!" It's Hannah, my 'best' friend. She probably just needs help with potions homework. She's abominable when it comes to potions. Sighing I turn to look at her. She's grinning, something clutched in her hand, It's a Teenwitch magazine open to an article about how to apply makeup so it looks natural, but elegant. I can't help but smile al little bit. Hannah is always trying to figure out how to apply makeup so it looks good, though she never has the nerve to wear it anywhere but our dorm room.

"Angie," she says again upon reaching me. "Look at this," she holds out the magazine. "I think I might get how the eyeliner works now. Do you want to try it?' She looks up at me so expectantly. Not an ounce of judgement in her eyes, only excitement and her wish to share that excitement with me.

I laugh, a huge smile covering my face. "Sure." Hannah races up the stairs ahead of me and I run up after her. She has already pulled out the supply of makeup she has but is always to embarrassed to wear.

So what if I'm not as smart as a Ravenclaw, or as open with my friends as Harry Potter, or even noticed by the Slytherins? I have my best friend who likes me just I as I am. And that's all that really matters to me.

"Can I do you first?" Hannah asks excitedly. "I've got the perfect color for you. I think it will bring out your eyes."

I smile again, sitting on the bed in front of Hannah. "Okay, but only if I get to do whatever I want to you. And no complaining you look bad when you really look gorgeous."

  
  


~*~*~

  
  
  
  


A/N: That's a wrap. Also, I think there might be a bird in my stove pipe, if anyone was wondering. It's been there for three days and can't get out. It's really rather sad. The poor bird won't die. Of course if it did our living room would probably start to smell. Anyway, this is the end of the story. What did you think?

  
  



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